The Story of Sam/Brandon

As always the preface is too long for this so just read that instead

Preface: As you can see this is another one of my many prompts I’ve done over the years, this one is rather special, a one of a kind in a period of drought (It reports itself July 20th 2019 midnight), this is a single one made on a weird format: Gmail emails, I did this on a under-powered device and used Gmail like word to make this thing, this is a rather neat thing as I kept the original emails allowing me to show it versus the Word final version I have, so compare the two and see how much for a editing monster of Lucas fame I am, but anyways Sam, Boss, important email while going to work (Another specialty of this one is that it’s prompt isn't from Writers Cafe, but, instead my little sister, by the way if you ever read this you’re the best!) anyways here is the original 2 email spanning manuscript:

prompt: A person gets ready for work and gets an important call

Person A: Sam
Person B: Brandon

Just waking up Sam streches turning off his noisy alarm clock. The
thing beeping crazely displays the time in ruby red foucerts “3:50 AM”
it says whirlling before istantaneously stopping like a dragon
returining to it’s mountain just as quickly as it arrived. Now for all
it noise Sam knew it to be a lie, as for it was so old it forgot to
account for Daylight Saving Time, making it about a hour off, whatever
the alarm was for, it was late a hour, not that Sam minded, 45 and
alone working a dead-end job. He cared less for his job as a legless
person cares about shoes, cause, though he had a job, and he did it
adequetly enough barring his inability to show up on time, he was no
more a worker of Bubu & Fred Inc. as a worker to the plants, as in not
at all besides his reliance on them to survive, but, within him though
a bit far down is a desire, a pulsing desire within him to be more
than just a pawn within Capitalism’s big turning machine, Slaves to
their basic neccesities and made to churn out whatever the higher-ups
would want of him, no matter the cost on him, being replacable. But,
instead breaking away from the machine to make his own life away from
the slavery of modern life. But again he pushes the notion away, not
wanting the trouble of building his own path instead settling for the
casual wrongness of life, to stay in the rut he so presicly carved for
himself the last 20 years. Not wanting to be late he popped  some
instant Oatmeal in the microwave and hastly grabbed his coat, he’d
have to eat in the car again, something he did with suprising
regularoty. ‘He hadn’t died yet.’ he thought himself getting both him
and his steaming bowl of oatmeal to his car in one piece. 'Maybe today
I’ll get lucky’ He thought in response. As he reached to turn the
ignition his phone rang, his boss. He goes to answer it as he chows on
his affordable neutrients, he swallows sayin
Alwsomex Studios <[email protected]>
Jul 20, 2019, 12:32 AM
to me

g “Hello.” the boss replies “Hello, Sam you know what? This is it, I
tried my best to keep you despite your tardiness, but, this is it, you
failed me one too many times. You’re fired.” and as Sam sits there,
his boss hangs up. Sam sitting there the words still ringing through
his head. Grinned, turned the ignition and headed toward the Charity
Hall. His sign-up sheet and his book of jokes ready, he finally did
it, he broke away.ReplyForward


and finally the new and completed Word version of this same prompt:

Character 1: Sam

Character 2: Brandon/Boss

Goal: A person gets ready for work and gets an important call

 (This is the standard format of my prompts I changed it to make it fit with the rest of my writings, as well added the boss label for the Brandon character as I realized in the entirety of the prompt I don’t once ever refer to him as Brandon and only call him boss so I do it to fix the confusion.))

Just waking up Sam stretches turning off his noisy alarm clock. The

Thing beeping crazily displays the time in ruby red faucets “3:50 AM”

It says whirling before instantaneously stopping like a dragon

Returning to its mountain just as quickly as it arrived. Now for all

It noise Sam knew it to be a lie, as for it was so old it forgot to

Account for Daylight Saving Time, making it about an hour off,

Whatever the alarm was for, it was late an hour, not that Sam minded, 45 and

Alone working a dead-end job. He cared less for his job as a legless

Person cares about shoes, cause, though he had a job, and he did it

Adequately enough barring his inability to show up on time, he was no

More a worker of Bubo & Fred Inc. as a worker to the plants, as in not

At all besides his reliance on them to survive, but, within him though

A bit far down is a desire, a pulsing desire within him to be more

Than just a pawn within Capitalism’s big turning machine, Slaves to

Their basic necessities and made to churn out whatever the higher-ups

Would want of him, no matter the cost on him, being replaceable. But,

Instead breaking away from the machine to make his own life away from

The slavery of modern life. But again, he pushes the notion away, not

Wanting the trouble of building his own path instead settling for the

Casual wrongness of life, to stay in the rut he so precisely carved for

Himself the last 20 years. Not wanting to be late, he popped some

Instant Oatmeal in the microwave and hastily grabbed his coat, he’d

Have to eat in the car again, something he did with surprising

Regularity. 'He hadn’t died yet.’ he thought himself getting both him

In addition, his steaming bowl of oatmeal to his car in one piece. 'Maybe today

I will get lucky’ He thought in response. As he reached to turn the

Ignition his phone rang, his boss. He goes to answer it as he chows on

His affordable nutrients, he swallows saying “Hello.” the boss replies “Hello, Sam you know what? This is it, I

Tried my best to keep you despite your tardiness, but, this is it, you

Failed me one too many times. You’re fired.” and as Sam sits there,

His boss hangs up. Sam sitting there the words still ringing through

His head. Grinned, turned the ignition and headed toward the Charity

Hall. His sign-up sheet and his book of jokes ready, he finally did

It, he broke away.

Author's Note

The original is mostly for preservation sake (Think of a first draft) please only review the second one as it is the final finished product